Torment and Terror (15 page)

CHAPTER 39

The blades on Melegal’s throat burned into his skin. Bullets of sweat burst out on his forehead. He’d played his last card. He’d used the power of his cap and lost. The underling woman’s sword edges pushed deeper into his skin. Flesh and hair burned. He lifted his dimpled chin and faced his soon-to-be-slayer.

My, she’s a gorgeous thing.
If only we could have shared a glass of port together, I might have convinced her my life was worth sparing—and a few other things.

Elypsa’s haunting gaze was captivating. There was curiosity in her deep purple eyes. She pulled the blades back across Melegal’s neck, leaving two lines of seared and smoking flesh.

Melegal didn’t scream. Instead, he tried another command.
Run!

The underling woman’s eyebrows twitched. Her face turned sour.

Melegal’s nose bled freely. Blood dripped on his shirt. He grimaced at the pain between his temples.

So hard to keep clothes clean these days.
My attire is hardly suited for a burial.

She cocked her elbows back to strike.

Do I have one quick dodge left in me before it’s all over?

Elypsa hopped backward.

Venir’s shield soared by.

Melegal rolled away, increasing his distance from the woman without averting his eyes.

Bish, that was close!

There stood Venir. Brawn and steel, one together. The dark helmet’s eyelets glowed with a black angry light. Brool was gripped in his corded tree-trunk arms. Monstrous shoulders hunched over, the warrior squared up on the underling woman.

She circled him with interest, swords hanging loose in her grip and slicing back and forth through the air. She muttered a word, and they hummed with a faint mystic red light. She spun the weapons around her body, forming a shield of energy.

Brool in one hand, Venir spread his arms wide and brought them together in front of his broad chest. Letting out a battle cry, he charged.

Elypsa skipped away from the first swing.

Venir was practically a giant in her midst. Chopping with fury. Brool sliced through the air in strokes of lightning. Two close strikes skipped off the woman’s shield.

She countered. Striking quick, she lunged at Venir’s exposed belly.

He brought Brool’s hung blades down, blocking the first blade.

Clang!

The second stroke tore through the side of his mid-section.

Rip!

Brool came down in a lightning-fast chop that should have split the woman in half. It skipped off her shield and shattered the magic.

Backpedaling, she danced away with narrowed eyes. She unleashed some angry chitters.

Venir pressed the attack. He jabbed Brool’s spike at her.

On light feet, she tiptoed away.

Venir used his superior reach, keeping her quick efforts at bay. Short stabs. Short chop. Steel rang on steel.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Quick as Elypsa was, Venir’s moves blocked her every assault, using every bit of his axe.

Slat, that big lout is fast!

Captivated, Melegal snuck over and collected Venir’s shield. He glanced up at the fire in the sky.

He might not need this, but I do.

As he wiped the blood from his nose, his head tingled.

What now?

***

Elypsa started muttering something.

Venir unleashed a decapitating blow.

She leapt high and froze twenty feet in mid-air. She chanted in Underling and banged her blades together. Her body started spinning. The blades twirled around her body like a vortex of lightning. She touched down and, like a gale, headed straight for Venir.

He brought the axe down on the underling whirlwind. Metal grinded on metal like a clap of thunder. Venir staggered back, renewed his efforts, and chopped again.

Ching! Ching! Ching!

Sparks flew from the blades. Darting away like a fly, the vortex slipped past Venir’s guard.

Slice! Slice! Slice! Slice!

Venir let out a howl. “Argh!”

Elypsa’s blades tore hunks of flesh from his back.

He scrambled away, set his feet, and readied for the next charge.

Helm had sensed all of her moves before but not now. The underling woman’s magic had fooled even him.

Bleeding heavily on one side, Venir said to the woman inside the whirling blades. “Come on, you double-bladed witch!”

The flashing blades disappeared, and the woman stood still before him. She eased her swords into her sheaths and showed a cruel smile. One by one, she pulled the throwing knives out of her bandolier, filling her hands with metal darts. She started spinning again. Her body became a cotton white mist.

Venir closed in.

She drifted away and headed straight for the fallen women.

Venir ran after her, but her blades shot from the cloud and into the struggling wounded. Melegal dove in front of them, shield ready. He blocked some, but not all.

Kam was wailing, “Erin!”

Elypsa came to a stop and drew her swords again. She turned into a metal whirlwind.

Enraged, Venir charged straight for her.

Metal collided with metal. A shower of sparks followed.

Getting nicked to pieces, he kept chopping. Battering. Slicing. Up and down Brool sliced.

Side to side the massive blades cut.

Venir the tireless juggernaut would not stop. Not until the underling fiend met her end.

“Chitter. Chitter. Chitter.” She mocked. She struck.

Muscle and bone exposed, dripping from scores of wounds, Venir fought on. His limbs were tireless. Pushed beyond their limits. Propelled by a force that only his iron will could handle. That he had to handle. He had to see it through. Every underling must die. He was the man to do it. “Rah!”

Clang! Clang! Ching! Ching! Clang!

He hit harder and harder. His huge axe became black lightning. Cut to ribbons, he fought on. Sensing a sliver of an opening, he hacked.

Chop!

A glowing black blade skipped out of Elypsa’s whirlwind arms.

Cling!

Her spinning stopped, and she staggered back. Shoulders drooped, perfect chest heaving, and covered in sweat, she shuffled back from Venir. Her eyes were violet moons, captivating but defeated. She stepped over body after body and almost bumped into Quickster. She stopped. Arm trembling, hair matted with sweat, she lifted her sword parallel over her head. Her lavender lips spoke a word.

Helm interpreted it. “Impossible.”

Venir closed in. His body was loose skin and shambles. He’d never killed a woman before, but this was an underling. It had to be done. He lifted his arm that was bigger than both of her legs.

“Oyatch!” Melegal spat an order out. “Oyatch!”

Quickster bucked. His hooves drove straight into the middle of Elypsa’s back. Her spine snapped.

Crack!

She fell limp on the ground.

Helm throbbing, Venir turned.

The underling flying in the air shambled toward them. His fingertips winked in and out with fire. Deep hatred was in his lone red eye.

Venir took two great strides and pounced high in the air. Up, up he went. Down, down Brool came.

Sidebor’s mystic shield went up.

It didn’t matter. The downward force of Brool shattered it to pieces. Venir turned him into dog food.

Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop! CHOP!

Sidebor’s bright eye winked out, and a powerful gust of wind exploded from his body.

Still on his feet, Venir turned and said, “Where’s Erin?”

CHAPTER 40

Erin lived. The little girl would have a nasty scar in her shoulder, but she’d probably grow out of it.

Boon died. Melegal found him, staring up into the sky. His neck was burnt black flesh that reeked. Every hair on his body was burnt to a crisp, including his mustache. But he had a wry smile on his face. A victorious look was in his eye. Perhaps he knew something they did not know. Whatever it was, it had died with him.

“Should we bury him?” Billip crinkled his nose. “Death stinks.”

Melegal put his cap back on his head. “Are we going to bury all of them?”

There were dead everywhere and only a handful of survivors. All of Melegal’s friends had survived, at least the women, Billip, and Venir had.

Nikkel was torn to pieces and barely breathing.

“Eh,” Billip said, “I think it’s bad luck to bury a wizard. Let the birds eat him.”

“That sounds like something I’d say,” said Melegal. “No, we bury him, at least I will. I don’t know why, but I liked the old guy. I think he did us a favor too. He gave just enough so that we, or Venir at least, could finish him off.”

“If you say so. My, you look pretty bad for you.”

“Ha. And of all the scrapes we’ve been in, how’d you get out of this one unscathed?”

“I pretended I was you. You must have pretended you were Vee.” Billip patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll find a shovel. And, glad you’re still around, Melegal. We both might survive this disaster yet.” He walked away.

Melegal took a breath. His once limber limbs ached. His heart ached. The faces of his dead friends had started to stack up. Mikkel. Georgio. Lefty. Boon. And Fogle, Brak, and Jubilee were missing. Slom and Zurth were dead too—by Venir’s hand, but he’d liked them. He glanced back and found Jasper wrapping up Nikkel’s wounds. His thoughts went to Haze. The callous and scrawny woman had kept him warm inside and out. This war had taken her, too. At least Jasper had made it, for now.

Nearby, another unique body lay on the ground. It was the underling woman. Her back was broken, yet she lived. But the life in her limbs was gone. Billip had disarmed her and bound her up. She was talking in Underling, her eyes filled with fear.

Venir slipped in front of Melegal. The helmet was gone, but the axe remained. The man’s body was a mess. Bloody bandages and ugly stitches, most of which he had done himself.

“I couldn’t let you kill her,” Melegal said to him.

“I know. Let’s hope we don’t regret it.” He pointed the axe at the woman. “Maybe she’ll die.”

“They hate too strongly to die on their own,” Melegal said. He kneeled down and inspected her. “All of that fighting and not a scratch on her.”

“I must have been holding back on account of her being a woman.”

“Well, she sure got the best of you,” he said, eyeing a flap of skin that hung loose on Venir’s shoulder.

“It’s only flesh. Who needs it?” Venir studied his axe. Caressed the wood that made up the handle. His meaty hand stopped on the iron shod at the bottom of the handle. A curious look filled his eye. He turned the shod.

Sshtik!

The spike retracted.

“You really should quit playing with that thing. One day you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Huh,” Venir said. He turned the handle again.

Sshtik!

The spike popped out.

“You know, after all these years I completely forgot about that. Wonder why?”

“Because you’re a lout.”

***

Dwarven Hole. It looked like a series of gargantuan inverted volcanoes in the ground. It took Venir and company three days to get there, but they made it. Now, they stood gaping over the rim. It was a canyon from one side to the other and dark within. Venir heard no hammer. No hum of working. No grinding machines.

Hugging him with her good arm, Kam said to him, “This doesn’t look safe.”

“Compared to what?” he joked.

Kam looked up at him with a frown.

“I’m sure it’s fine. It’s just been a while.” Too long maybe. The dwarves didn’t take in strangers, and Venir had only been here a few times—with Mood, and the King of the blood rangers was gone. That was probably his fault too. He had no idea if they would blame him or not. Or even if they knew.

“Something comes,” Billip said.

A squad of stocky bodies appeared out of the dimness and marched up the inner ramp. Dwarves in heavy armor crested the rim and more kept coming. In seconds they had the remnant of survivors surrounded.

A black bearded one in black chainmail spoke first. “Aye, we know you, Venir.” He pointed at Billip. “Him too.” He peeked around Venir. A few jung, striders, and humans stood on weak legs behind him. “Dark times. I take it you vouch for all of them.”

“We’re all we have left of one another. Some supplies would do, but I want to talk.”

The dwarf’s black brows lifted. “Then talk.”

“It’s time for war.”

“Then let’s talk some more. Come.”

The dwarves marched all of them down inside.

After they’d traveled a mile or more through the grim darkness, the soft light of Dwarven Hole came. The women gaped at all of the marvelous bridges and terraces deep within. Everything was thick, sturdy, and well built.

The dwarves led them into a grand room. Water trickled from the rock into a fresh pond. Greenery and fruit were aplenty.

“Rest,” the dwarven commander said to them all. He bowed. “Aside from you. Come, Venir.”

Aching all over, Venir followed the commander and four guards for long minutes that turned into an hour. He knew Dwarven Hole but not that well. He had no idea where or how deep he was.

Finally, the commander turned and passed under an archway.

This was a room Venir recognized. It was the throne room of Mood, King of the Blood Rangers. There stood a rank of twenty blood rangers on either side of the throne room, all with blood-red beards. Some were bushy, others braided or tied in knots. They were fair skinned, red skinned, dark skinned, and olive. Each and every one as hardy as a mountain.

The commander and his small company departed without a word.

Venir swallowed. It was clear. They wanted an explanation about Mood.

Finally, unseen, a rich dwarven voice spoke. “So, yer ready for war, are you?”

Venir’s blue eyes widened like saucers.

There was the sound of two familiar dogs barking and claws scraping the stone floor in a rush, and then Chongo was licking Venir’s face.

Smoking cigar in mouth, Mood said, “Huzzah.”

The blood rangers replied in unison, “Huzzah!”